


The House Always Wins

by sequence_fairy



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thieves, Banter, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Multi, We love a little fluff inside our smutty heist shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28103550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: “Ry,” Sara’s voice cuts in through Ryan’s muttering about combination possibilities, “you’re going to have company in about five minutes.”“Shit,” Ryan swears.“On my way,” Shane says, voice pitched low.Their business cards say 'flexible' and 'comfortable with multi-pronged plans of attack'.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej/Sara Rubin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	The House Always Wins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poiregourmande](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/gifts).



> For Em, who ages ago asked me for some ot3 as inspired by my dive through the Ocean's tag on this here website.
> 
> Thanks to Mel for the read-through!

It’s textbook, this one, an easy in and out, smash and grab, sort of situation. 

Their client is anonymous, but his money’s real enough, and so are the forged invitations Shane and Sara present at the doorway to the building. Ryan will find his own way in, and given how easy everything else has been tonight, Shane has to believe the schematics they were handed along with the flash drive containing all the security plans for the evening are just as good as everything else. 

Shane’s watching the crowd from his pre-arranged spot next to the dance floor, a glass of champagne in his hand just for something to hold on to.

“Kiss me, quick” Sara says, leaning up into Shane’s space. He masks his surprise at her appearance with a winning smile, leaning down. Shane’s hands come up around her waist, long fingers spanning almost all the way around. Sara looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Security pass in five, four, three, two—” 

Shane kisses her, pulling her in close. Sara melts against him, pushed all the way up onto her tiptoes even in her heels. She tastes like the champagne she’s not supposed to be drinking on the job. Shane sighs into her mouth when she swipes a tongue along his bottom lip and lets her lick inside. She reaches one hand up into his hair, fingers tightening. 

Around them, the party hums; the clatter of dishes, voices lifting and lowering in conversation. At the head table, the ladies of the hour are watching each other over the rims of their glasses. Shane hopes they both have a very happy anniversary, though he’s very much occupied by Sara’s mouth on his at this current time.

Sara pulls away after a long moment, slowly opening her eyes and looking up at Shane. She’s flushed, and her lipstick is smudged, but neither of them have been made by the passing gala security. 

Shane squeezes Sara around the waist quickly, and then lets her go. He watches her melt into the crowd. Unconsciously, he brings a hand up to his mouth, the taste of her still lingering on his lips. It’s been a long time since she’s pulled that gambit in the middle of a job, Shane goes back to observing the crowd. In his ear, Ryan’s muttering. 

“Oh, so you play that game with him on a job, Sara?” Ryan’s saying. Sara doesn’t respond, and Shane hides his smile behind his champagne flute. 

Ryan’s upstairs, in the private offices of Impicciche & Scott, spinning the tumblers on their safe. 

“Ry,” Sara’s voice cuts in through Ryan’s muttering about combination possibilities, “you’re going to have company in about five minutes.” 

“Shit,” Ryan swears. 

“On my way,” Shane says, voice pitched low. He pushes himself off the wall and lets his long stride carry him to the service stairs on the other side of the ballroom. Before he opens it, he turns, scanning the crowd, watching to see if anyone’s looking too closely. 

Sara’s on the landing of the grand staircase, leaning against the railing, glass of something dangling from her hands. The gold of her dress shimmers in the party lights. 

“You’re good,” Sara says, and Shane pushes the bar to open the door. He slips through, slowing the door behind him so it closes almost silently. 

He takes the stairs two at a time and beats the security team by seconds. 

The pair of them are surprised to see him when they step out of the elevator, but Shane’s already deeply into his excuses for being where he shouldn’t be, and he’s so sorry, he got turned around, maybe they can help him find his way back to the party? Something extra in that champagne he’s been drinking, have they noticed? 

“Sir,” one of the very square-shaped men says, “you’ll need to come with us.” 

“Oh, well,” Shane hedges, “y’know, I think, what I  _ really  _ need, is to just—” he staggers forward, and then to the side, letting himself run into a desk and knock everything off the surface. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, leaning against the desk, “just, phew, you know?” 

“Sir, please.” 

“Jus’ a moment,” Shane says, flapping his hand at the pair of them. “I need—I just need—wooo—” Shane brings one hand to his forehead, wincing. 

“Do you require medical attention?” 

Shane lets himself slump a little further down, sending another wave of things off the top of the desk. “Some air, maybe?” 

One of the security guys heaves a deep sigh. “Alright, sir, you can’t stay here. Please come with us.” 

“Sure, sure, jus’ lemme,” Shane slurs, and steps forward, wobbling. 

“He’s out, Shane,” Sara says, over Shane’s earpiece, just as Shane’s being herded into an elevator, a beefy security guard on each side of him. 

On the ground floor, the security guards hustle Shane through the party, and out the front door of the building. 

They leave him there on the sidewalk, the door closing behind them. Shane shivers. It’s snowing and they hadn’t even let him stop at the coat check to pick up his coat. He hopes Sara can get it when they give her hers, he likes that leather jacket. He shoves his hands into his pockets, and walks down the block, and then around the corner and down an alley. 

Ryan finds him there a moment later, shimmying down a fire escape, knapsack strapped tightly to his front. 

“Did you get them?” Shane asks, before Ryan’s even down on the pavement. 

“Yeah, of course,” Ryan says. He looks Shane up and down. “Where’s your coat?” 

“Ran into some trouble,” Shane answers. He shrugs. 

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Ryan says. He slides the backpack onto his back, and then pulls off the black beanie covering his hair. “Here,” he says, handing Shane the hat. “Can’t have you catching your death.” 

They walk out of the alley, several million dollars in stock certificates nestled in folders on Ryan’s back, Ryan’s hat crammed on Shane’s head and Shane holding Ryan’s elbow.

* * *

Shane takes the longest, hottest shower he thinks he can stand while Ryan sets up the drop with their client. Shane loves hotel showers, they’re always hotter than any of the ones in any of the flats he’s ever lived in. Shane scrubs the shampoo through his hair, feeling his fingers tingling as the blood warms up in his extremities. 

The door to the bathroom opens and shuts. 

“Are we no longer knocking?” 

“Think we’re past that, babe,” Sara says, from the other side of the shower curtain. Shane tilts his head back under the spray, rinsing shampoo out of his hair. 

The door opens and shuts again. 

“If you two want to make out in the bathroom, can you please wait until I am done showering?” Shane grouses, without opening his eyes. 

The shower curtain rings screech against the rail as they’re pulled along it. 

“You warming up yet?” Sara asks, stepping into the shower. Ryan’s close behind her, one hand on her waist. 

“I think I could use some help,” Shane says, and he lets Sara back him up out of the spray of the shower. 

Warmth sparks in Shane’s gut when her hand goes around him. 

“How’s that?” Ryan asks, leaning forward over Sara’s shoulder. Shane turns his head enough to catch Ryan’s mouth in a kiss, mouths coming together and apart. 

“Oh, me too, please,” Sara breathes, when they separate to breathe. She’s got one hand on each of them now. 

Ryan takes the offer of Sara’s mouth, and Shane ducks down to mouth along the line of her neck, and to bring one hand up to the fullness of her breasts, thumbing over her nipple just to make her gasp. 

He watches Sara and Ryan kiss, and thinks about the big bed in the other room. The ideas coalesce around each other until Shane needs to get them all out of the bathtub and onto something a lot more horizontal. 

“I’m going to get out of the shower,” he says, “and then I’m going to go lie down in that very large bed in the other room and I think you two should join me. I think we should see exactly how much of that bed we can take up.” 

“You’re on,” Ryan says, “I gotta rinse off. Don’t get started without us.” 

“Or do,” Sara suggests, giving Shane a squeeze for good measure. He swallows. 

* * *

Later, when Shane’s two fingers deep in Ryan with Sara’s chin hooked over his shoulder, eyes bright and watchful, her hands around Ryan’s dick, and Ryan’s eyes shut and his hair a riot across the extra white hotel sheets, Shane thinks about all that money sitting in Ryan’s backpack. 

“We’re gonna be set for life,” he says, turning his head to kiss Sara. 

“Yeah, babe,” Sara says, when she breaks the kiss. 

Ryan’s hips buck, straining towards the end. 

“You think we should move to Corfu this time,” Sara wonders, sliding out from behind Shane, so she can slot herself in front of him instead. She sinks down on Ryan, who gasps, and bites his lip. His hands bunch in the pillows behind his head. 

“I hear the weather’s lovely,” Shane says, one hand coming around Sara’s hip to steady her as she moves, letting Ryan bottom out and then lifting herself almost all the way off at the apex of the wave of her body. 

“The ocean’s very blue,” Sara says, strained. The angle’s not so great for Shane’s wrist now, but Ryan’s breathing heavy, his chest heaving, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“We could get a little villa,” Shane suggests, still moving his fingers in and out as Sara rides Ryan, slow and merciless.

“On a cliff?” 

“Fuck your cliffs,” Ryan says, and then groans when Sara stops moving entirely. 

“That’s impolite,” she says. 

“You know what’s impolite—” Ryan starts, but he interrupts himself to suck in a breath as Shane takes the moment to crook his fingers. 

“Don’t talk back to the lady, Ryan,” Shane admonishes. Ryan cracks one eye open to glare at them. 

Sara goes back to her slow rhythm, and Shane pulls his fingers out of Ryan, leaning up to whisper into Sara’s ear instead.

“Bet he feels good, doesn’t he? Gonna let him come in you, get you all messy for me, baby? Make it easy for me to just slide in there after him? Gonna come on his cock, Sar? Show me how prettily you can do it, baby girl, I wanna see.” 

Sara moans, and picks up the pace. 

“What are you telling her?” Ryan asks on a gasp. “She just got so wet, Jesus.” 

“Just telling her how pretty she looks coming on your cock,” Shane says, “and how I’m gonna make her come on mine after, gonna fill her all the way up—” 

“Fuck—!” 

“You coming, Ry? Gonna make her such a mess for me? I know you love it,” Shane says. He slides the hand he had holding Sara’s hip up to her breast, and thumbs the nipple into hardness. She jerks against him. “Gorgeous,” Shane says, leaning down to mouth along Sara’s neck. “The pair of you, can’t believe it—” 

Sara shudders. “Gonna—oh, Ryan,” she gasps. The hand she has planted in the centre of his chest for balance clenches. 

“That’s it,” Shane encourages, “come on, Ryan, come for her, she’s gonna hold on ‘til you do, aren’t you, Sara?” 

Sara whimpers, but she nods her head.

“Yeah, you are,” Shane says, mouth at the shell of her ear. “How about you, Ryan? You close?” 

“Fuck you,” Ryan swears, without heat. Then; “yeah, God, almost.” 

Ryan comes moments later, biting down on his fist. Sara jerks and shudders as Ryan’s hips snap up. She bites her lip to hold herself off. Shane barely waits for Ryan to catch his breath before he’s pulling Sara up and off of Ryan. He reaches down and slides his fingers through her cunt, feeling how wet she is.

“Messy,” he says, and lines up. The slide home is smooth and she’s so warm. Shane’s been on the edge for as long as they’ve been in bed together, and it’s almost too much for him to hang on, but he does. 

It’s still quicker than he’d like, but Ryan manages to rouse himself enough out of his post-orgasm stupor to get his fingers on Sara’s clit, and then she’s shaking apart in Shane’s arms and he’s following her over, unable to hold off any longer. 

They collapse in a heap of limbs. 

* * *

Shane wakes in the pre-dawn light, sticky and overheated. Sara’s curled up in front of him, Ryan sprawled out on his back behind them. They’re all still naked. The hotel room is cool now, enough that Shane reaches down to pull the bedsheets up and over them all. He re-adjusts in between Sara and Ryan, resettling his arm around Sara and reaching back with one foot so he can press his toes against Ryan’s calf. 

When he falls asleep again, he dreams of a beach in Corfu, Sara’s hair a wild tangle from the sea breeze, and Ryan’s grin a blinding white. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://sequencefairy.tumblr.com)!


End file.
